Orwell said that the measure of a society is in how they treat their animals. By that standard we're pretty awful. We treat a lot of our fellow beasts appallingly. Orwell wrote about common toads and farmyard animals with an eloquent sensitivity. David Foster Wallace, who by many accounts wasn't always a very nice human being, wrote movingly about lobsters, asking of us that we try seeing things briefly from their point of view. Not easy.

 Walking in the city I notice the pigeons, whom most city dwellers regard as a nuisance bird. They are the proletarians of the animal kingdom. Harried and dirty and scrounging out their existence, I feel for them. When I happen to look up and see a group perched a little above the fray, taking a breather, I'm glad. They look comfortable. At some ease. Safe from the wheels of cars and trucks and the dirty looks of pedestrians. Okay, so they may not have hopes and dreams like us. But they know pleasure and pain and are surprisingly sensitive creatures who mate for life.  Who are we to ignore this? They are God's creatures too, if you believe in that sort of thing. And if not, they're still beautiful living breathing accidents of evolution looking to get along the best they can. Have you ever heard a pigeon coo? Hard to make out in the cacophony of a city but when they are happy about something they'll tell you. It's the kind of thing we should all be listening for.